


angry man cares for his robot son

by blackbirdsfolly



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackbirdsfolly/pseuds/blackbirdsfolly
Summary: The winter always brings about sickness. Even Connor is not immune to this.





	angry man cares for his robot son

It had been a long day at the precinct already, and the constant dizziness and hot flashes Connor had been feeling hadn’t helped at all. His L.E.D had been cycling a pale yellow all afternoon, though fortunately Hank had been too bogged down with paperwork to take notice and the few others who had come to work during the massive snowstorm that day hadn’t cared enough to ask if he was okay. Connor was so relieved when Fowler had told them to clock out before the storm blocked up the roads that his L.E.D had transitioned to blue, but not for long. 

Connor stood from his desk after logging off the terminal, placing his hands firmly on the smooth grey surface to orientate himself before he continued on towards the door. Paperwork forgotten, this detail did not manage to slip by Hank. 

“You alright?” the lieutenant asked, following after his android partner but quickly overtaking him as Connor’s pace was unusually slow. 

“Yes,” he replied, choosing to simply leave it at that. 

“Your L.E.D’s yellow,” Hank pointed out. Connor sighed quietly. 

“I’m fine- just a little tired, is all,” Connor lied. Hank’s lips drew together in a thin line of disbelief, but he clearly saw it better to abandon the topic as he had known Connor long enough to know that the android was not going to give up more information on his condition. 

Turning on the engine and blasting the heat to warm them up after the brief but freezing cold trek to the car, Hank pulled onto the road and drove carefully through the flurry of snowflakes. Connor watched the storm outside with mild interest, longing to feel the frigid wind against his skin to chase away the uncomfortable hot flashes. A dull ache in his stomach caught his attention and forced Connor to focus on himself instead. Eyes fluttering shut, he quickly ran a self-diagnosis to try and assess what the problem was. 

Several seconds later the android discovered that his thermoregulator was malfunctioning from overuse, which explained how hot he was. He noticed that this was also causing his Thirium filters to glitching, too, likely due to the proximity of the two biocomponents. 

Connor’s eyebrows twitched down a fraction as a thought crossed his mind. Perhaps some tainted Thirium had managed to slip by the glitching filters and mix with the rest of the blue blood throughout his system. That would account for the stomach ache as well. 

Connor quickly decided it was nothing too serious, and opted not to alert the lieutenant. A good night’s rest to give his system time to repair itself and chase out the tainted Thirium and he would be good as new. That was, until an error message appeared in the corner of Connor’s vision. 

WARNING: CONTAMINATED THIRIUM DETECTED. OVERHEATING DETECTED. 

LOW POWER MODE ACTIVATED IN: 00:01:59 

Connor pushed away the alert messages and switched off his automatic low power mode feature. He would decide for himself when he would rest. 

The rest of the car ride home was painfully slow and painfully uncomfortable for Connor. He was thankful to get out of the stifling air of the vehicle and embrace the cold winter wind against his face. He stood for a few moments, eyes closed, letting the snowflakes dapple his hair with white dots and absorbing the cold. 

“You just gonna stand out there all night or what?” Hank asked, the door to the house slightly ajar. Connor opened his eyes slowly. 

“Coming,” he answered, taking slow and careful steps up the front porch and entering the house. Shutting the door behind himself, Connor removed his tie, jacket and shoes and instantly shuffled over to the couch, completely ignoring Sumo (much to the Saint Bernard’s disappointment). Connor threw himself down on the couch with one arm draped over the back and the other dangling off the edge, his fingertips brushing the carpet. Hank seated himself on the armchair nearby and turned on the TV, the background noise welcome as Connor allowed himself to finally drift into low power mode and let his system repair itself. 

 

Connor woke up abruptly what he assumed was several hours later to total darkness. The sound of the storm still raging outside rattled the house and shook the old windows noisily. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he saw that Hank had gone to bed and Sumo had positioned himself at the edge of the couch over Connor’s legs. The dog must have sensed the android’s discomfort, because usually he slept in the corner on his own bed. 

Connor, during any other circumstance, would have found Sumo’s behavior sweet, but now he only had one thing on his mind. He had been awoken to an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach, his mouth watery and face hot as he pulled his legs out from under Sumo, earning a low but meaningless growl from the dog, and stumbled into the kitchen. He leaned over the sink and vomited into it, the rush of dark blue Thirium splashing over the stainless steel. 

This had not gone unnoticed, as mere moments later a light flicked on as Hank shuffled into the kitchen. 

“Connor...?” Hank half-yawned, rubbing at his face with his hands to try and chase away the drowsiness. The android opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by another wave of sickness, turning his head back around swiftly to make sure he didn’t make a mess. Hank was awake in an instant, hurrying over to Connor and rubbing small but firm circles in his back. Connor appreciated the comforting gesture greatly as another bout of nausea overcame him. Another warning message popped into his vision. 

WARNING: SLIGHT THIRIUM LOSS DETECTED.

Connor tried his best to push the warning away but unfortunately it stayed as he continued to spit some of the purged Thirium into the sink. 

“What’s wrong?” Hank asked softly, lifting up Connor slightly to help assist the suddenly ill deviant back over to the couch. He noticed how he was unusually warm for an android. 

“The cold caused my… thermoregulator to… malfunction, which caused my… Thirium filters to glitch too, allowing something to slip by and… contaminate it,” Connor explained to the best of his ability. His voice was hoarse and had a hint of an electronic echo to it, signaling that his system was directing power away from his voice box and towards the biocomponents that really needed attention. He shut his eyes which were glassy and unfocused to try and repress the vertigo that threatened to swallow his vision in a sea of darkness. Hank deposited him on the couch and sat down by his feet, resting a reassuring hand on his knee. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. 

“I didn’t want to… worry you,” Connor answered truthfully. 

“Connor, it’s my responsibility to be worried about you,” Hank sighed, somewhat exasperated. “You can’t keep exacerbating your problems just ‘cause you ‘don’t want to worry me.’” 

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered, clearly exhausted. Hank gazed fondly at the android that had come into his home only a few months ago but had quickly become a very important part of his life. 

“Just don’t do it again, okay?” Hank only continued once he saw Connor nod in reply. “Is there anything you need?”

Connor thought for a moment. “More Thirium,” he said at last. Another wave of rolling heat caused him to flinch slightly. “And something cold.”

Hank quickly grabbed a pouch of Thirium from a small supply in the bathroom and ran a cloth under cold water. He returned to the couch with these items as well as a bucket in case Connor still needed to purge some of the tainted Thirium so he didn’t need to get up to do so. Connor quickly drank some of the blue blood from the pouch as Hank placed the cloth on his forehead. Instantly his features relaxed, becoming less tense with pain as the cloth worked to cool him and the replenished Thirium kick started his healing program. Connor opened one of his eyes and looked at Hank as he got up to return back to his room to try and sleep some more before he had to go into work the next day. 

“Hey, Hank?” Connor said. The lieutenant stopped in his tracks. 

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything,” Connor replied. Hank chuckled a little, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Any time, son.”

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in a rush and its probably not as good as all the other Connor sickfics out there but hey, what can i say? i love this video game and i love this dumb boy.


End file.
